


Coming Home

by Liritar



Series: Falling [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liritar/pseuds/Liritar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bailey is overwhelmed by work, like always, but now he has someone to help him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

Bailey stared at the door in blank incomprehension for a long moment, until finally memory broke through the haze of exhaustion. _Right, this is my apartment,_ he thought with agonizing sluggishness. He didn’t have a job to do here, no one to question or browbeat or goddamn flatter. Politics. Politicians. They could all go to hell as far as he was concerned. As if running C-Sec wasn’t a big enough job, he had to play politics. He felt as though he hadn’t slept all week as he’d dealt with issue piled on problem piled on politely worded firm ‘request’. He did actually remember a few times—a bare handful—where he’d collapsed for a brief dose of oblivion, but never for long enough.

He suddenly realized he was still standing outside his door. _Right, I need to open it,_ he reminded himself, reaching to hit the unlock codes.

As soon as Bailey crossed the threshold, hands descended on his shoulders and gently guided him to a chair. He gazed down in mystified detachment as a bowl of noodles appeared on the table before him. A dry chuckle sounded after a moment. “You need to eat, Owen. I found you some human food.”

He looked up, blinking, to see Kolyat standing there, gazing down at him sternly. “I can take care of myself, kid,” he muttered gracelessly.

“Of course you can.” He thought he detected sarcasm in Kolyat’s voice, but that could have been his exhaustion talking. He wasn’t at his best right at that moment. In fact, his best was at the other side of a vast chasm, tauntingly out of reach. Sleep. He needed sleep.

Suddenly the smell of the noodles wafted up, and he realized he hadn’t eaten all day. Oh. So Kolyat was right. He grabbed the bowl and had inhaled half of the helping before he could make himself slow down. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Kolyat bent down, pressing dry lips to his forehead. “Don’t worry,” the drell said softly, husky voice even raspier than usual. “I have plans for dealing with that tension when you’re done eating.”

Bailey gave a wry laugh. “I think you’ll find that difficult, as tired as I am.”

A huff of amusement passed the boy’s lips as he reached out to tap Bailey lightly on the side of the head. “Is that all you ever think about?”

“Stop being so beautiful, and I’ll try it,” he said gruffly.

The drell’s inner set of eyelids blinked. “Eat, Owen,” was all he said in reply.

It didn’t take more than a few minutes for him to finish up the noodles, and the feeling of vague nausea that had been bothering him all day settled down. Hunger. Of course. Bailey wasn’t sure how he’d been so stupid he hadn’t realized he was just hungry. Though the stress of everything had been enough to make him ill, as well. He didn’t resist when Kolyat took his hand and pulled him gently to his feet, then guided him to the bed. His boy had been right about everything so far.

“Take of your shirt and lie down on your stomach.”

He shrugged and complied, dropping his shirt on the floor and stretching out on the bed, shifting until he was comfortable.

Kolyat slid onto the bed behind him, moving gracefully to straddle his waist. Before he could say anything, strong fingers were sliding along his muscles, seeking out the areas of greatest tension and with deft determination dispatching them. He felt himself relaxing without any control over his body, a sensation as though he was melting into the bed. His eyes slid shut.

When they opened again, all the lights in the bedroom were off and he was alone. He blinked, somewhat disoriented, and slowly gained his feet. It wasn’t until his feet hit the cold floor that he realized that Kolyat must have taken his shoes off while he was sleeping. His lips curled slightly. The kid was thoughtful, he’d give him that. On top of everything else he’d done… He felt rested. It had been so long, he’d forgotten what that felt like. He stretched, yawning, and made his way out into the main room of the apartment.

He heard Kolyat’s voice before he saw him. “Armando-Owen Bailey’s apartment, can I take a message?” The kid had been watching too many human vids. He said that with just the right inflections.

“What the hell are you playing at, Kolyat? I need to talk to the commander.”

Bailey flushed slightly, hovering out of sight. It was no secret among the men that he and Kolyat were… well. Whatever they actually were. It still made him uncomfortable every time he realized that they knew.

“He’s sleeping, Herk. I’m not waking him up. He doesn’t look like he’s had a good night’s sleep in a month.” He’d never known Kolyat could sound that indignant over him.

“Actually, I’m right here.” He placed a hand on Kolyat’s shoulder and slid into the visual frame of the transmitter. Only when the man’s expression went completely deadpan did he remember that he didn’t have a shirt on. _Dammit,_ he thought to himself, trying not to wince. “So what the hell is it, Herk? Forgot how to tie your own shoes again?”

“No, sir.” Herk gulped softly. “There’s been a murder, and that Al-Jilani bitch is sniffing around, and, well, you said we weren’t to talk to her without your permission?”

“Oh, fuck me,” Bailey groaned, pulling away and storming back to the bedroom. “I’ll be right there, Herk. Tell the men to be polite but uncooperative.”

“Yes, sir.” Herk sounded relieved, and well he might. _He_ didn’t have to deal with the damned press all morning. Bailey scowled as he heard the call disconnect. He thumbed desperately through his closet for a clean uniform. He had to have some. How long had it been since he’d done laundry?

He heard a soft cough behind him, and turned to see Kolyat, holding up a hanger with a neatly pressed uniform. “You’re going to eat breakfast before you go,” he said firmly, “or I’m going to tie you to the bed and make you sleep.”

“Kolyat…” Bailey protested, but the boy shook his head firmly.

“You’ve worked yourself nearly to death, and I’m not letting it happen again,” he hissed. “Sit down at the table and eat. Then you can have your clothes.” And then the boy was gone, out into the kitchen, digging around in the mostly empty fridge.

He blinked and followed the young drell, almost in a daze. The idea of fighting him didn’t cross his mind at all. Kolyat just had that much force of personality this morning.

“No wonder you’re starving,” Kolyat groused, gravelly voice full of exasperation. “You’ve got no food! When was the last time you went shopping?”

“I’ve been busy,” he said defensively.

“Uh huh.” Kolyat set a plate in front of him; he’d managed to scrounge up enough to make a sandwich. “Eat that. And don’t you _dare_ forget to stop for lunch, either.”

“Yeah, I got it,” he murmured, looking down at his sandwich. He hadn’t known he’d been worrying his lover so much. He ate without complaint, as quickly as he could. When he was finished, he got to his feet and tugged Kolyat into his arms, giving him a long, tender, and vision-impairing kiss. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I swear, I’ll get some time off. Even if I have to damn well kill someone.”

“No need to be so extreme, Siha,” Kolyat chuckled. “Just go. Take care of it.”

“I’ll be back tonight,” he promised. “And I’ll try to be good for more than just passing out.” He kissed him again, briefly, then changed swiftly into his fresh uniform and strode from the door. _Another day, another crisis,_ he thought dryly. _Maybe someday people will be able to deal with their own problems._ He almost laughed aloud at the notion. _Not damn likely._


End file.
